Striking a Chord: MMF Menage Romance

By Kat Logan

Her luck is about to change forever...

Hailey hasn't had much luck in her life. Not with her art career. Certainly not with her string of loser boyfriends. Or with her deadbeat brother, Dan, fresh out of prison. But after a long shift at the hotel, she bumps into Travis, her brother's best friend from high school and the guy she'd crushed on for years. Only now Travis is a red-hot country music star, and she can't believe how much hotter he is now than he was when they were kids.

Travis is a country music sensation, a success story from the down-and-out town of Echo. He and his partner, Asher, have been together for years, and he'd always thought Asher was enough for him, on stage and in bed. But when he runs into Hailey in Nashville, he can't believe the feelings and memories that come rushing back. He'd loved his friend's little sister from afar, and if it hadn't been for Dan's violent streak, he would have definitely asked her out. But back then, he hadn't been man enough to take on his best friend.

Asher's old-money family never accepted who or what Asher was, so he made his own way in the music business, playing with Travis and running a successful record label. But when Travis introduces him to Hailey, it's as if everything in his life has fallen into place. A threesome with Hailey is just what both of them need. The sex is scorching, and it's soon clear their love will not be complete without her. But when Hailey's brother finds out she's involved with Travis and Asher, the past returns to threaten their new love. And it'll take all three of them to fight for the love they deserve…

Reader note: contains MMF ménage romance, and male male love. A complete, stand-alone story with a happily ever after

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wolf Hill Publishing
• Release date: Feb 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215418581

Book preview

Table of Contents

Cover

Table of Contents

Look for these titles from Kat Logan

Title Page

Copyright Warning

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

About the Author

Also by Kat Logan

More Romance from Etopia Press

Look for these titles from Kat Logan

Now Available

MMF MENAGE ROMANCE

Playing it Out

Striking a Chord

Healing Their Hearts

Rocking the House

Riding High

Her Perfect Mistake

Biker’s Paradise

Dangerous Obsession

Getting Off

Running Hot

Double or Nothing

Moonlight Menage

MAFIA ROMANCE

The MacCarrick Mafia

Vicious Pleasure (Book One)

Book Two (Coming Soon!)

Book Three (Coming Soon!)

Striking a Chord

MMF Ménage Romance

Kat Logan

Copyright Warning

EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Published By

Etopia Press

1643 Warwick Ave., #124

Warwick, RI 02889

http://www.etopiapress.com

Striking a Chord

Copyright © 2018 by Kat Logan

ISBN: 978-1-947135-57-4

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Etopia Press electronic publication: February 2018

~ Dedication ~

For Maria in Miami.

CHAPTER ONE

HAILEY

Whew. I loosened my tie and stepped away from my computer. I checked my watch one last time, a smile playing at my lips. It was finally over. As I signed out on the hotel computer, I glanced around, excited to finally be done with this crazy night. Even though it was almost eleven p.m. and past any kind of comfortable time to check-in, our spacious lobby was teeming with guests. The two doormen were practically holding the doors open nonstop as people flowed in and out of them, wearing their expensive-looking pea coats and talking excitedly to one another. The large revolving door, with glass so clean it practically glinted in the moonlight, remained in revolution.

I took off my thin, silk tie and walked around the front desk. As I stepped off the platform into the wide-open space, the clicking of my heels on the glistening, marble floors fell in tune with the chatter of the guests lounging on the spacious, contemporary furniture. Classical music flowed from the pianist on the dais at the back of the wide-open space, just a few feet from the cylindrical, transparent elevator tower, banded in gold like something from a sci-fi movie and rising to the twenty-seventh floor. I slowed as I watched the pianist, a complacent smile on his face as his fingers flitted across the keyboard. He looked like human furniture sitting there with his black tuxedo, his hair slicked back. As I made my way through the gold archways to the bar, I glanced around at the families sitting together. I wondered what that would be like: to be able to just sit with your family on vacation in the lobby of a hotel as expensive as this and play with your phone as if nothing around you was new and amazing; to have no responsibilities and no concerns other than having fun.

By the time I had gotten through the archways and found a spot at the end of the bar, I had untucked my white shirt and let my long, brown curly hair down. I shook it, letting the loose curls bounce around me, sighing at the freedom. I took my perch at the bar seat and waited with an expectant look on my face for the bartender to come around.

He slapped a napkin down on the bar in front of me. Doin’ all right tonight?

I recognized his dirty-blond spikes, but truth be told, the bartenders and servers from the three restaurants associated with the hotel didn’t really mix in with the concierges. Our jobs were very different. What I had was basically a desk job that you did standing up and at odd hours of the day. Very different from running back and forth behind a bar, making drinks and wiping counters.

I nodded. I’ll have a Jack and Coke. I pulled out my employee card and waited for him to come back with my drink.

As I exchanged my card and a ten dollar bill with my drink, I continued to observe the people in the lobby. Things were starting to thin out. People had left the lobby, either to go upstairs and head to bed or to go out into the streets of Nashville and get into more trouble.

I sipped my drink, letting the hot fire of whiskey, mixed with the cool, syrupy sweetness of Coke roll down my throat. It was my treat to myself after making it through a long week of working at this uptight hotel, dealing with guests who wanted unreasonable requests, who expected you to bend the rules for them, who blamed you for everything from a badly kept room to a rainstorm outside.

God, I hated this damn job. But it was a job, and it paid pretty well, which was the best that I could ask for. I continued drinking as the bar itself started to clear out as well. No one who wanted to drink was going to stay in and get it from a stuffy, overpriced hotel bar when outside, it was Nashville.

The bartender came to stand by me, looking for someone to talk to I guess. So, how’s it goin’? he asked.

I gave him a short nod. Good. Truth be told, the last thing I wanted to do was have another forced conversation after nine hours of doing just that.

You just get off work?

I took another sip. Yup. Then I thought of something. The lobby had been a lot more crowded today than the rest of the week, and there wasn’t any kind of holiday coming up that I could think of. You got any idea what’s goin’ on with these crowds?

He raised his eyebrows. You didn’t hear? There’s a music festival goin’ on downtown. Huge. Artists from all over the country. Even a couple from Ireland and Australia.

I nodded slowly. Ah. Sorry, I’m not really into the music scene.

He blinked. How can you live in Nashville and not be on the music scene?

But that was the thing. I didn’t live in Nashville. I lived in Echo, a small town outside of Nashville where half the people lived off unemployment, and the other half were strung out on drugs. I wasn’t like the majority of the people who worked in this hotel and got to take all the money and put it into things like their retro Nashville apartment and their futures. Every cent I made went to taking care of myself and what was left of my family: my deadbeat brother.

Sorry, I guess I got bills. I shrugged. I was getting tired of this interaction. Besides, this was supposed to be a nice, quiet treat for myself, an oasis between my job and my brother, but now I was having to deal with proving myself to a complete stranger.

We all got bills, hon, he said as he took a rag and swiped it across the counter. Me and mine are gonna head down on my day off. You should really consider goin’. It’s a once in a lifetime thing.

If I had a dollar for every once in a lifetime thing I had let go on account of my brother and my family obligations, I wouldn’t even need to be working in that hotel.

How much? I asked, part of me considering it.

Three hundred for two days, but you can see all the residents playing then.

I raised my eyebrows. That was a complete impossibility. Yeah, I think I’ll pass.

I took one last sip of my drink, slurping it all the way down to the ice, then started to gather my things: my coat, my purse, my phone. I’d had had enough of the inside of that hotel for one day.

Headin’ out? he asked.

I nodded. Yeah. I stood up and put my coat on, grabbing my bag and flipping my hair over the collar. I left the bar and crossed the lobby again, my dress shoes dragging over the impossibly clean carpet. I nodded at the doormen but headed straight for the revolving door. I glanced down at my phone to check for any missed calls or messages. My brother